


the words that we carry, tell me no lies

by treescape



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, M/M, Praise, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treescape/pseuds/treescape
Summary: “That is high praise,” Obi-Wan says, “to give someone who is merely capable.”Or, in which Qui-Gon expands his vocabulary.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 29
Kudos: 258





	the words that we carry, tell me no lies

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [The Words That We Carry／直抒胸臆](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23803291) by [serotinous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serotinous/pseuds/serotinous)



> I, uh, just wanted a reason to have Qui-Gon say nice things about Obi-Wan. Is that so wrong?

It is the hardest decision he makes in the aftermath of Naboo: once Qui-Gon has healed, Obi-Wan lets him go.

He doesn’t do it by degrees; it is achingly simple to remove himself from the equation. He finds ways to avoid meeting even in public. He accepts mission after mission. He deflects messages with dexterous skill. Altogether, he becomes something of a ghost, so far as Qui-Gon Jinn is concerned.

It is one thing, at least, that Obi-Wan appears to be good at. If it feels a little like losing a limb, well, Obi-Wan knows how to live with pain.

It is his final act of obeisance to a Master who no longer wants him. Qui-Gon hardly needs a barely capable Knight lurking about while he trains a new padawan with more potential than Obi-Wan ever dreamed of.

Perhaps Qui-Gon will think of him, from time to time. Perhaps he will remember Obi-Wan with kindliness, even if he cannot manage pride.

He is not bitter. He might have been proud of that, if it were not simply the case that one person can only feel so much at any one time.

Obi-Wan is too full of heartbreak and embarrassment and regret.

\---

If there is one thing he should have known, it is that one can only run for so long.

Later, he will be grateful that his legs finally give out.

\---

It comes to a head one quiet afternoon. The temple gardens extend out around Obi-Wan in a riot of colour, and he reaches out with his senses to the growing things that surround him. Exhaustion seems to live within his bones, these days, burrowing down to the soul of him.

Perhaps he has accepted too many missions too quickly, he thinks. It has been hardly a year since the rigours of Naboo.

He can feel Qui-Gon’s presence approaching before he sees him, a strong, steady pulse in the Force. Obi-Wan weighs his options, but in the end, he doesn’t leave. There is no way for him to make an exit without it seeming like what it is: flight. Instead, he closes his eyes and angles his face to better catch the sunlight, taking comfort in the physicality of its warmth.

He tells himself that he hopes Qui-Gon will go away.

“You are a difficult one to find, these days.” The familiar voice comes from over his shoulder and high above. It is warm and amused as it braids its way back into Obi-Wan, and something about that tone makes it possible to respond.

“I had not thought you should want to find me.” Obi-Wan only opens his eyes when a slight shift of the air and a rustle of fabric signal Qui-Gon’s intention to sit. The heat of his body as he settles in next to Obi-Wan, just a few inches away, is like a fever. It is greater than any sun in any system.

The tilt of Qui-Gon’s head is quizzical. Sometimes, Obi-Wan still sees that look in his dreams.

“I have missed your company, Obi-Wan.” His voice and his gaze are even, and it is this more than anything that stings. For so long, Qui-Gon’s steadiness had been the linchpin of Obi-Wan’s life. “Your absence is felt keenly.”

“That is high praise,” Obi-Wan says, “to give someone who is merely capable.”

He means for Qui-Gon to take it lightly. Qui-Gon will laugh, perhaps, and Obi-Wan will find an opening to leave. It has been hard work, this past year, to orient himself to Qui-Gon’s own absence.

He has already lost every inch of ground gained.

But Qui-Gon always had been able to see right to the heart of things. His voice, when he speaks again, sounds of realization and concern.

“I would hope that you do not judge my opinion of you based on words spoken under great pressure.”

It is his job, Obi-Wan thinks, to reassure. It is his to soothe and to mitigate, to soften and forgive.

But Obi-Wan is suddenly, blazingly angry, and he doesn’t much care what protocol dictates.

“Forgive me,” he says in a voice that makes it clear he does not actually seek pardon. “There is disappointment, when the person who has been your world for half a lifetime makes it clear that you are adequate.” Qui-Gon makes a noise, but Obi-Wan speaks past it. He speaks past the pressure in his own throat as well. He cannot seem to stop the words. “That you are good enough, we might say, to be set aside in favour of another.”

He wishes he could leave, that he could compel his limbs to carry him away. He knows that poison, when leached, leaves one weak.

Qui-Gon is silent for some time, and Obi-Wan inevitably feels his eyes drawn to his former Master. Qui-Gon is studying him with a faraway look, as if lost to the recesses of time.

“We both know you do not require forgiveness,” Qui-Gon finally says into the air between them, “but it appears that I do.”

Obi-Wan feels his his brows lower in confusion, because if he had expected anything, it was not this.

“There are many other words I should have used.” Qui-Gon’s voice is firm as he continues, as if he has made a decision. “I regret that I did not use them.” His lips twist, a little, halfway between a smile and a grimace. “I might more accurately have said, _his skills are exceptional_. I might have said, _his elegance is remarkable_ , or _his judgment is sound_. I might have said, _he is absolutely singular_. Instead, like a fool, I said _he is capable_.”

Qui-Gon stands in a single movement, the lines of his figure smooth against the greenery. “Obi-Wan. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” His lips press momentarily into a line. “And you are the best thing that ever _will_ happen to me. If I have never made that clear, then that is my failing, not yours.”

It is almost too much, all at once. Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to say.

He hardly knows what to _think_.

But he knows that if he does not say _something_ , Qui-Gon will walk away. Maybe Obi-Wan will not have lost his chance, but he doesn’t think he can bear for this to drag out any longer.

He says the first words that come into his mind. They are an entreaty more than an accusation. “Don’t tell me such things if you do not mean them.”

“I mean them.” Qui-Gon’s face is as serious as Obi-Wan has ever seen it. “I mean them and more.”

Of all the words Obi-Wan has ever heard spoken, these, he thinks, are the best. There are only three that might be better, and Qui-Gon speaks them later that night.

 _I love you_.

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly modified versions of these 2 prompts from [THIS](https://a-cure-for-writers-block.tumblr.com/post/171530282467/100-dialogue-prompts-to-make-a-reader-swoon) list.
> 
> 32\. “You’re the best thing that has, and ever will, happen to me.”
> 
> 87\. “Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it.”
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'm [treescape](https://treescape.tumblr.com/) on tumblr; feel free to drop a prompt in my askbox.


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